


How Much Trouble Can One Little Efling Be?

by MalthirielGreenleaf



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalthirielGreenleaf/pseuds/MalthirielGreenleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Legolas and his Ada, King Thranduil, are visiting the Imladris Elves. Little does Thranduil know what consequences his visit will have. Will they make it home alive? Sorry, these chapters are very short and the story is not canon! I think I've finished this, but if there's anything you want to see, feel free to suggest it and I'll try to write it in!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

"How much further, Ada?" The little elfling was almost bouncing in the saddle with impatience, his lively blue eyes alight with suppressed excitement. Thranduil surveyed his youngest with an air of bemusement. "Surely I never had that much energy!" he thought. It was true – the little prince was always getting into one scrape or another. Trouble didn't just happen to Legolas; he welcomed it in with open arms. The Elvenking shuddered at the memory of his youngest's latest escapade – how the scamp had managed to get up that chimney, he would never know – before being jerked back to the present by his son's piercing voice. "Ada!" Not for the first time during the journey, Thranduil wished Lithuen had decided to make the trip with them. Summoning his last shreds of patience, he smiled down at his son. "Not very much,  _tithen pen,_ " he soothed. Legolas began talking, but his father forestalled him by raising one slender finger. "Look," he commanded. Still pouting a little, Legolas obediently turned to face ahead.

To the little princeling's travel-weary eyes, the landscape before him looked much the same as they had passed before: crumbling rock, clumps of heather and swatches of moss and grass. He opened his mouth to inform his father of this when the ground suddenly plunged out of view just in front of his pony's hooves. Barely aware of what he was doing, Legolas scrambled out of the saddle to gaze with wide eyes at the incredible view before him. The tiny elfling could barely take everything in: the bubbling river, the fresh, homely scent of the pines trees, the flaming red and gold of the maples as they surrendered their leaves to hungry Winter. Thranduil sat his horse silently, savouring the amazement of his tiny offspring with some amusement. "Come along,  _ion nin_. We still have a way to go yet." Legolas obediently turned away from the edge.

"Coming, Ada" he began when the thunderous cacophony of a hillside's worth of tumbling rock and earth drowned him out. "Legolas!" Thranduil cried, leaping from his horse and racing to save his little one. An involuntary cry of triumph burst from his lips as his outstretched fingers grasped the folds of Legolas' cloak. But he had forgotten the effect Legolas had on his clothes. Worn out from the constant wear and tear imposed on it by the little prince, the soft silk tore, leaving Thranduil with a handful of ragged cloth, and Legolas Manwë knows where.

_Glossary:_

_Ada = Daddy_

_Tithen pen = Little one_

_Ion nin = my son_


	2. Chapter Two

Elrond gazed out the wide, wide window, savouring the view of his beloved Imladris. The white foam of the River Bruinen, the flame-clad trees whispering in the breeze, the deafening rumble as the western valley wall crumbled into oblivion. The slender Elf lord leaped to his feet in alarm. "What in the Valar just happened?" he whispered, the cold feeling of dread settling into the pit of his stomach. The light patter of running footsteps sounded outside his door, followed by the door being flung wide open as his sons cannoned into his study. " _Ada_!" the nearest twin – he  _thought_  it was Elrohir – exclaimed. "The whole western-" " _Ada_ ," Elladan – no, Elrohir – interrupted. "When is Thranduil due to arrive?" Elrond stared at his son in confusion, wondering why Elrohir was so wound up. "Around mid-day," he answered slowly. "But why-" " _Ada_ , look at the sun." Suppressing a sigh of exasperation, the Lord of Rivendell glanced up at the sky and froze in horror. As if on cue, the noon-bell chimed. Fighting down the rising tide of fear that threatened to claim him, Elrond turned to his sons. "I want you both to ride out to where the cliff collapsed," he commanded. "Yes  _Adar_ ," the twins chorused, bowing hurriedly and darting for the door. Pausing to rub his aching temples – to think he'd never so much as  _heard_  of a headache before having children! – Elrond strode out in search of Glorfindel.

He found the Elf in question perched on a limb of the ancient tree which shaded the practice fields. Elrond hesitated at the foot of its trunk, mentally debating whether to scale the tree himself, robes and all, or to abandon all dignity and holler up at his friend. Fortunately, the decision was made for him when Glorfindel glanced down and caught sight of his lord. He gauged the distance between his perch and the ground, before dropping lightly down to join his friend. "What is the matter, my friend?" the golden-haired Elf asked. Elrond deliberated momentarily on how best to describe the situation, before settling on honesty. "Thranduil and his party were due to arrive within the next hour or so, but I fear they may have been delayed," Elrond admitted. "I sent the twins to go and investigate, but I'm not sure how much they can do..." His words trailed off into silence; Glorfindel placed a comforting hand on his friend's arm. "I'll send out some patrols. Don't worry, Elrond. We'll find them and bring them back safely." He paused, eyeing his friend. "You should probably let Celebrían know." Elrond nodded and, somewhat reluctantly, strode off in search of his wife.

Unsurprisingly, he found her in the nursery, Arwen cradled in her arms. The tiny elfling had probably drifted off to sleep to the sound of her Naneth's soft singing – Celebrían had always loved lulling their children to sleep with her voice. He paused in the doorway, running his words over in his mind, but his plan was foiled when she glanced up at his entrance, the worry in her silver-grey eyes barely masked. Settling their littlest child in her cradle, the Lady of Rivendell turned to her husband. "What happened?" she asked. "Is Thranduil-" she broke off. Elrond reached out to gently cup her face in his hands. "I do not know,  _meleth nin_ ," he admitted. "The twins have gone to investigate, and Glorfindel has sent out patrols to guide them here, just in case." She nodded, the fear in her eyes lessening at his words. "I hope no-one was caught in the landslide," Celebrían murmured absently. His blood ran cold at the thought. "I'm sure everyone would have had enough sense to keep away from the edge," he replied. Then he froze – any adult Elf would be wise and experienced enough not to have been caught out by the collapse, but an elfling was another matter altogether. Elrond knew that Thranduil's son, Legolas, was only a few centuries old and was travelling with his father. Silently, he prayed to the Valar for Legolas' safety, but as you must be thinking, it was already too late.

_Glossary:_

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Meleth nin = My love_


	3. Chapter Three

Elladan glanced over at his twin, noting the tightness of his jaw and the tenseness with which he sat his horse. "It'll be all right," he tried, more in an attempt to make his brother feel better than out of any real conviction. Elrohir just grunted, shrugging his slender shoulders. "El-" he began again, but forgot what he was going to say when the other elf rounded on him in fury. "Don't, Elladan. You don't believe it any more than I do!" Turning back to the forest ahead and firmly ignoring his companion, he resumed his anxious scanning of their surroundings. A rippling brook wandered past, filling their ears with its chuckling running as it plunged its way over its stony bed. The brothers felt a momentary sigh of relief – here, at least, the environment seemed untouched, but their hearts plunged right back down into their stomachs as they rounded the bend and caught sight of what used to be the western valley wall. Huge mounds of tumbled dirt and stone barred their way forward. Buried somewhere beneath the wreckage was the remnants of the narrow path that had once zigzagged its way up the cliff; briefly Elladan wondered how on earth Thranduil was going to get down now, for he didn't know any other entrance into the valley.

"What do we do?" Elrohir breathed, forgetting his annoyance with his twin in the face of such destruction. Elladan, ever the practical one, dismounted from his horse with practiced ease. "Now, we search," he pronounced, scrambling up onto the nearest boulder and balancing lightly on his toes. "One of Thranduil's party may have been caught in the collapse. If we wait for one of Glorfindel's patrols to arrive or even if one of us returns to  _Adar_ immediately, help may still arrive too late. It's up to us!" Elrohir nodded his agreement and leaped from his horse. A single glance at his twin informed him of how he was to carry out his search and he immediately picked his way across the treacherous mass of boulder, careful not to dislodge any of it. Away to his right, he could see Elladan doing the same. Trying to ignore the rapid thudding of his pulse – what if he was too late? – he carefully scanned the area, keen Elvish vision picking up any movement.

...

It was so slight he almost missed it. Elladan whipped his head around then mentally cursed himself for his mistake. Now he would have to wait and hope he noticed it again, as he was uncertain of just where the motion had occurred. There it was again: the tiniest, most imperceptible movement, square in the centre of his field of vision. Forcing himself to step carefully and keep his pace steady, he inched closer, his heart hammering from somewhere in the region of his Adam's apple. *****  The seconds crept by as he cautiously drew near, until he finally sank down onto his knees beside a heap of dirt. Gently, he delicately scraped away at it, hardly daring to hope. A slender pair of hands, so like his own, appeared beside him and began to carefully enlarge the opening he had made. He gently brushed his brother's fingers with his own in silent thanks before returning his attention to his task. With both of them working, the hole widened rapidly until they had opened it enough that one of them could see in easily, even enter if he wished. Rocking back on his haunches, Elladan laid a hand on his brother's shoulders. " _Daro,_ " he commanded quietly. Instantly, Elrohir ceased his labours and leaned back against the rock. "You do it," Elrohir whispered. Ducking his head in a quick nod and forcing down his growing anxiety, the young elf cautiously inched forward until his head and shoulders were in the cave – for cave it was! He could easily see the whole interior of the cavern – except for the boulder which he had been forced to dig around, which obscured his vision to the left. Without looking back, he reached out and caught Elrohir's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before slipping the whole way through the gap and emerging into the cave.

The stony ceiling was far enough away that he could easily crawl along, a good foot of space between his head and the rocks. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he made his way around the boulder only to come face to face with a pair of frightened grey eyes. The owner of the eyes stood – yes, stood – with his back to the curving side of the rock, slender fingers gripping the handle of a white hunting knife with white-knuckled intensity. Elladan's eyes travelled the length of the elfling's body in bemusement. He had no recollection of hearing that a little one would be visiting too, but when his gaze lighted on the sliver leaf pendent peeping through the grubby shirt's neck, his mouth fell open in shock. "Ai Valar!" he breathed, suddenly remembering an idle comment his father had made about the Crown Prince of Mirkwood. "Thranduil will not be happy..."

***** Do elves even have Adam's apples? Hmm...

_Glossary:_

_Daro = stop; halt_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: As Yet Unnamed   
One moment he’d been poised on the edge of the cliff, turning to face his Ada; the next his father’s face was shrinking rapidly as the little prince plummeted towards the valley floor, along with several tons of cliff wall. The next few hours were a blur. He vaguely remembered choking clouds of dust billowing and eddying about him in the wake of the landslide, but he didn’t remember just exactly how he’d arrived in the cave. When the dust had finally settled and he’d realised he was trapped, Legolas hadn’t worried at all. He’d sat and waited patiently – he knew his Ada would come and find him and make everything all right again. In fact, he’d been so secure in the knowledge that his father was coming that he’d curled up and gone straight to sleep. But when he awoke several hours later with a parched throat, empty belly and still no Ada in sight, he’d realised that it was up to him to get himself out of his predicament. Screwing up his courage, he began to explore the huge (in his eyes), echoing cavern in the hopes of finding some means of escape, but to no avail. He hadn’t been able to find a way out and, worse, even with his limited experience he could tell that the rock walls surrounding him were unstable and could cave in at a touch. Resigning himself to his fate, he wrapped himself up in his cloak as best as he could and snuggled up in a corner, against the side of a huge, curving boulder.   
...   
Soft noises from outside his refuge jerked the elfling back to the present. Leaping to his feet, he drew a slim white knife from his belt and settled down to wait against the boulder, ready to fight for his life if need be, his tiny body tense with excitement and adrenaline. The seconds ticked by, the soft slithering of dirt outside keeping him alert. Slowly, however, his grey eyes glazed over and his mind again wandered the familiar paths of elvish dreams – until the unmistakeable sound of someone dropping lightly to the ground jerked him back to awareness. Legolas immediately straightened, his hand bringing the knife back up again from its position at his side. A change in the sounds announced that the aforementioned Someone was making their way around the boulder. Swallowing past the tightness in his throat, the elfling shrank back into the rock as though he was trying to merge into it. Suddenly, he saw an image of his Ada, his blue eyes bold and unafraid, his tall frame drawn up to his full height. Unconsciously, he mirrored his father’s posture and sucked in a deep breath. He was determined he would face what was coming in a way that would make his father proud!   
He wasn’t sure exactly who he had been expecting, but he couldn’t keep his shoulders from sagging in disappointment as a tall Elf he had never seen before rounded the side of the boulder. He had very long, straight dark hair caught back in warrior’s braids and silver-grey eyes. They stared at each other for several long moments, then the tall Elf’s eyes widened in stunned recognition. “Ai Valar! Thranduil will not be happy,” he whispered, and Legolas felt a sudden wave of relief wash through him. “You know my Ada?” he asked, just to make sure. “Yes, tithen pen,” the Elf replied, “and he will be very pleased to know that you are safe!” As if abruptly remembering his manners, he swiftly introduced himself. “I am Elladan Elrondion, of Imladris. My brother, Elrohir, is waiting for us outside.” He held his hand out and, after eyeing it warily for several heartbeats, Legolas took it. He liked the way the Elf’s hand dwarfed his own – it reminded him of his Ada.   
“Come, tithen pen,” Elladan murmured, leading him carefully around the rock until they stood before the opening the Elf had made. Legolas wondered how he was going to get out – the hole was situated a good foot above his head – but all his worries were proved needless as Elladan lifted him effortlessly and pushed him out. Another pair of slender arms caught and steadied him gently; remembering his manners, the elfling twisted to thank the unknown Elf only to sit there in stunned amazement. When Elladan had finally pulled himself out onto the surface again, he found the elfling still sitting there in a state of stunned amazement. “We should get you home, tithen pen,” he murmured and was rewarded by Legolas’ jump.   
Said elfling spun around to eye his rescuer in disbelief. “There are two of you!” he exclaimed, grey eyes round and wide as saucers. He couldn’t believe it – in front of stood the dusty figure who had rescued him from the cave and had introduced himself as Elladan, while behind him sat an identical figure – well, identical aside from the layer of grime that coated Elladan. “Legolas, this is Elrohir, my twin brother,” Elladan said at last, taking pity on the elfling. This didn’t have the effect he’d expected, though, as Legolas still couldn’t understand how the two of them could look so alike. “But you look the same!” he objected. “We look the same because we’re twins,” Elrohir tried to explain, but Legolas’ mind was made up. “Aglariel and Aenith are twins but they look different! You’re just trying to trick me!” he insisted, folding his arms and glaring at them in a manner so reminiscent of his father’s that if they hadn’t been so exasperated by his stubborn refusal to change his mind, the twins would have found it hilarious. As it was, they were too frustrated to see the humour of the situation. “We’re not tricking you, Legolas,” Elladan sighed, but Legolas shook his head. “My Ada has told me about your pranks; this is just what you would find funny!” Legolas informed them. With twin sighs of resignation, the brothers rose, Elladan taking Legolas’ right hand and Elrohir his left. “We’re never going to convince him,” Elrohir remarked gloomily as the two of them guided their new companion in the direction of the horses. “Thranduil might back us up,” Elladan suggested, but the look on his brother’s face prevented him from adding any more. He knew as well as Elrohir did that Thranduil had been on the receiving end of too many of their pranks for him to help. He’d probably just encourage his son!


End file.
